


You Do It To Me So Well

by Nyxierose



Series: our possibility days [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘At least pin me to that tree like a civilized person,’ she shrugs.”</p><p>In which a random hookup at a party is the beginning of something so much greater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Do It To Me So Well

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Hypnotic” by Zella Day.

In the morning, she will hate herself for this. In the morning, head pulsing, she will remember just enough of this night and she will curse her nonexistent impulse control and hope that no one else knows. In the morning, it will be just like every other time she went to a party, every other time she hooked up with someone questionable without bothering to ask their name or anything else important. But right now, this is everything she wants.

The light is bad out here - apparently it's supposed to rain in the morning, she vaguely remembers _someone_ saying that - but maybe that's better for her. For both of them, she reminds herself, because there's definitely another person involved here and she wonders how he'll handle the fallout. If there even _is_ any fallout for him. She knows she doesn't know him, so chances are this won't get traced back to him on the same level. Lucky. Then again, maybe he has a reputation to ruin, unlike her. Maybe… no. Bad thoughts. Focus on the moment.

She doesn't know him, but he kisses her like he wants to memorize everything she will ever be and she lets him because this is what she does at parties. She is six weeks into her freshman year of college and so help her, she has a _routine_. Drink just enough to neutralize what few inhibitions she has, wander off on her own, and take whatever physical distractions come her way. So far, that's worked out just fine for her. She's very comfortable in her body, and she has life experiences to catch up on and an older brother to piss off. Not that he even knows about this little pattern, not that he ever _will_ if she has anything to say about it, but it's the theory of the beast and…

Her mind snaps back into the present moment, solid hands on her hips and oh _god_ she likes this one. He's kissing her neck now, reaching up for a moment to push her mess of hair out of the way, and his skin feels nice against hers. Weird thought, yes, but satisfying. She is more than okay with letting this one - he doesn't need a name, chances are she won't ever see him again even if she wants to - fuck her. He'll be decent about it, she's pretty sure. He'll at least try to get her off, and if he doesn't quite manage, she won't fault him too much for it. Still more than most of the boys she messes with.

She sighs as he pushes her shirt up, running his hands over her more than is _totally_ necessary, and wonders how this is even happening. She is _not_ getting grass stains on her back again after what happened last time, thank you very much, but… there's something fairly close that's _probably_ a tree and… that could work. Still going to leave lovely marks on her back, but at least they won't be _green_ and all over the impossible-to-reach bits. Worth a damn shot.

"So we're doing this?" she asks. His hands are cupping her breasts now, she's not sure how he managed to get her bra undone in near-total darkness but damn is she okay with that.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he replies, tone indicating he'll listen if she does. Good for him - she doesn't plan to need that exit.

"At least pin me to that tree like a civilized person," she shrugs. Priorities, something like that.

They make it that far and he kisses her again and damn is he good at this, especially when his fingers are doing twirly things with her nipples and she's pretty sure her underwear is _already_ ruined. Maybe she'll have to find out something about this one, enough to track him down in a few days or weeks and do this again. Not that she has a lot to go on other than a general approximation of physical size, but maybe he'll accidentally say something worth remembering and… hell, the university isn't _that_ big, finding someone with next to zero info shouldn't be _that_ hard, yeah?

"I'm on a pill," she says before _that_ awkward conversation happens.

"Good."

He takes time getting rid of her pants, but she's pretty sure that's because skinny jeans are simultaneously the best and worst thing that ever happened to her and this pair in particular fits like a second skin. Helps on nights like this, gets her the attention she wants that much easier. Annoying now, though, with his hands delicate on her thighs instead of where she actually wants them. He's such a tease and she would hate it except… honestly, it's the hot kind of different. None of the others bothered with silly things like foreplay, and thank goodness her libido doesn't take much. This one might have some idea how vaginas work, bless him. Adds to her theory he's older than her, but with the people she knows now, that's almost a given. She's one of the youngest girls in her dorm, only turned eighteen three months ago, and half the people she's met thought she was even younger than _that_. This one, she hopes, isn't in that category. This one…

Her brain cuts off again - somewhere during that last little mental wander, the problem of her jeans stopped being a problem, and he's either taken a hint or gotten bored with teasing her and moved on to tracing little patterns on her skin right above the waistband of her underwear. Second thought, still teasing her. Damn him.

"I want to fuck you, okay?" she mutters. "I'm already as turned on as I'm gonna get."

Hint. Taken.

He slips his finger through her slit, and bad light be damned she swears she can see him smile. "You're sure?"

He is the only person she has _ever_ been with who's asked that question so many goddamn times. Instead of an answer, she kisses him hard, daring him. She's been sure since the moment he wandered out here and she asked if he was going to play therapist or kiss her, and she definitely likes the route they've wandered down.

He nips at her neck again as he pushes into her, slow the first few times, faster as both their bodies acclimate. His hand between them makes things even nicer for her, little spirals over her clit, and damn right she's going to get off from this. Hell, unless he does something fantastically awful after, this will be a nice memory for the nights she needs to DIY it. But right now, that doesn't matter. What matters is her racing heartbeat, blossoming heat, _want, need,_ everything at once.

He kisses her in the aftermath, kisses her hard and wanting, and her hands linger around his wrists because somehow she's not quite ready to walk away. "I go to a lot of things like this. If you ever want to see me again."

"I don't, but I could change that."

She leans up, kisses him one last time, then turns away as she readjusts her clothes. "You should, mystery boy."

Before he even has a chance to explain himself, she runs. She always runs. Except this time, she wishes she was brave enough to break that routine. This time, she wonders what the hell she just did. This time, she wishes questionable outdoor sex wasn't her constant beginning and ending.

This time, she gets back to the apartment two hours earlier than she thought she would and falls asleep thinking of gentle hands and a voice she's sure she'd heard _somewhere_ before and lips that felt so right against hers.

This time, she keeps her eyes open for anyone who _might_ be her lovely mystery person, but somehow no one seems quite right. At least, not until she sees an unfamiliar person in a hallway she wanders down by mistake and she _knows_ , before either of them says a damn thing, that this is the one she's been looking for. This one, with haunting eyes and paint on his hands, has caused so much confusion over the last two weeks and he'll never have any idea because she'll never tell him. Not worth the effort, really.

She swings her hips as she approaches, hoping he remembers too, hoping she wasn't just a warm body. "Hey."

"You're elusive," he replies, smiling and _god_ he looks radiant in proper light. Not quite the image she'd created in her mind, but somehow better, more solid, _real_.

"So are you."

"Point taken." He glances around for a moment, as if trying to figure out what the hell one even _says_ to someone one hooked up with at a party a few weeks ago and might have developed a huge crush on despite not even knowing their name. "It's nice to actually meet you."

"You're not supposed to say stuff like that until _after_ a proper introduction," she laughs.

"Alright then," he shrugs. "I'm Lincoln."

"Octavia," she replies. It's a beginning.


End file.
